Syndrome: An 'Incredible' Sequel
by Manquare
Summary: Syndrome has survived, but after escaping to Nomanisan he finds that he has been followed by an investigator named Kate Goldin. Syndrome proves himself to be dangerous company for Kate, but together they will discover that the Island hides a dark secret..
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Syndrome and The Incredibles are the property of Disney and Pixar, and I am not affiliated with them. All recognisable characters and settings are being used for non-profit fanfic purposes only.

* * *

_He dreamt of being dragged helplessly into a gaping mouth of whirling blades, glinting viciously as they sliced into him, his blood coating the walls like a layer of thick red paint…_

Syndrome woke up with a start and hit his already aching head on the roof of his makeshift shelter.

Groaning and clasping a white-gloved hand to his forehead, Syndrome glanced around. The sky was dark, though a nearby line of streetlights provided some illumination.

It was the night after the day of Syndrome's defeat, and the grisly death that he had so narrowly avoided regularly came back to haunt him during his fitful slumber.

There he was, scrambling for his life as the force of the spinning jet engine dragged greedily at his cape, and dragging him along with it. Fear had consumed him in that instant, and raw instinct had taken over. Syndrome may not have had super-powers, but he had been blessed with quick reflexes, and as he felt himself abruptly slide back into the waiting blades, he had automatically done what he had rigorously trained himself to do in the event of danger – he had deployed his immobilizer-ray. The powerful beam had caught the propellers in the nick of time, freezing them in their tracks, but this in turn had caused the rest of the plane's inner workings to jam, and so the whole aircraft had exploded.

Miraculously, the sheer force of the blast had thrown Syndrome clear before the fires of the explosion could consume him. After that, still functioning on pure instinct, Syndrome had saved himself from plummeting to the ground by deploying one half of a pair of rocket-boots – one jet-pack having been torn away earlier by that raging, shape-shifting infant. Unable to control his erratic flight path, Syndrome had ended up crash-landing in a copse of trees in the middle of a small park.

Most of the debris from the exploded aircraft had fallen directly onto the houses below, but some of it had shot far across the suburbs, some of it ending up in the trees along with Syndrome. One piece of wreckage, a large sheet of metal, had ended up becoming Syndrome's hiding-place – already bent into a crude tent shape, the defeated villain had crawled underneath it, and there he stayed, dazed and exhausted.

As these events turned over and over in Syndrome's mind, he stared down forlornly at what remained of his once illustrious black cape. Half of it was gone – chewed up in the engine, and what remained was in tatters. The rest of his costume was not much better, and his body was riddled with cuts and bruises. It was a small price to pay for still being in one piece, but Syndrome gave little thanks for the fact that he was still alive – his raging mind was still consumed by terrible hatred for the Supers who had made his life a misery.

With dreams of revenge and triumph filling his thoughts and blocking out the worst of the nightmares, Syndrome fell into an uneasy sleep, as the dawn began to creep up over the horizon.


	2. Survival of the Villainous

Early the next morning, at around six o'clock, a car sped through the city of Metroville, heading out towards the suburbs. And within that car, curled up in the back seat, a very sleepy Kate Goldin was doing her best to keep herself awake by staring up through the window at the multitude of skyscrapers that towered over the wide road they were driving down. Kate was the only passenger, and driving the small, unimpressive vehicle was Mitch, Kate's friend and fellow researcher. He cruised down the main road at a swift yet casual pace, while enjoying the unfamiliar sights of the slick, ultra-modern city.

Kate, twenty years of age yet forever young at heart, was an accomplished researcher and investigator, mainly an expert on 'paranormal lifeforms', but her expertise covered just about anything that was considered strange or unusual. She was British, as was Mitch, but, by a sheer stroke of luck, she and the rest of her team were already in America – about a day's journey away from Metroville, in fact – when they had first received word about a giant robot destroying the city, and the alleged 'return of the Supers'. Well, Kate had done a good deal of work on super-heroes in the past, though funnily enough, it was usually the 'bad guys' that Kate always ended up lavishing most of her attention on. This was old news to her fellow researchers, who were well familiar with Kate's rebellious side – if it was dangerous, crazy, or just liked breaking the rules, Kate would always be the only girl for the job. There was just something about her that allowed her to befriend the unbefriendible. Although, admittedly, most of her subjects were usually far from being human.

So, figuring that where there was a destructive robot, there was usually someone powering it, Kate had been assigned to get to the city as soon as possible and record the events. And Mitch, being that he was in charge of the team's rented car, had been assigned to get her there. Meanwhile, a group of the research company's American affiliates were already there on the scene, and had agreed to keep Kate and Mitch up-to-date on current events until the two of them arrived.

They had travelled almost non-stop throughout the day in their efforts to reach Metroville. But throughout that journey, the events occurring in the city were rapidly changing. At one point, in sheer frustration, Mitch had nearly turned the car around and headed back the way they had come when they had received word that the robot, or 'Omnidroid' as it was rumoured to be called, had already been completely destroyed. What kept them going was the report that followed – a rumour about the one who had been controlling the robot, a crazed genius who had invented technology that most thought only existed in science-fiction films. But, that evening, they received a new report. The villain had been defeated, though not just defeated – killed.

So as it turned out, by the time Mitch and Kate reached Metroville, they had ended up with a completely different assignment to the one they had set out for. Now they were on their way to investigate the death of this alleged villain, and find out exactly what had happened the evening before. By now, the mood in the car had grown understandably sombre – Kate was half asleep, and Mitch was trying to make the best out of the situation by admiring the scenery. They had not been able to stop in at a hotel for the night, since they had been ordered to get to the site as early in the morning as possible, so as to conduct their investigations before the nosy neighbours emerged to conduct investigations of their own. But the two researchers had to admit, the fact that they were going to be among the first few people to have access to the site of the disaster was pretty amazing, and hardly an offer either of them could afford to pass up.

The sudden sound of a ringing phone jolted Kate from the doze she had unwittingly slipped into.

The bronze-haired, green-eyed young woman, wearing a pair of comfy old jeans and a loose, long-sleeved shirt, stretched out as best she could in the cramped space as she listened to Mitch talk on the phone.

"Oh right…yeah, it's downloading now…Wow, that's one crazy hairdo…Ok, yeah, we'll be there in fifteen. Bye."

"What was that?" Kate asked tiredly as Mitch hung up and dropped the mobile phone onto the front passenger next to his lap-top, which he had switched on a few moments ago.

"The team just sent me a photo of the villain guy." Pulling up at the traffic lights, Mitch glanced at the digital photo which now filled the screen of his lap-top, and he began to grin. "Hey Kate, take a look, I think you'll like this guy…"

Unclipping her seatbelt, Kate leaned forward and grabbed the lap-top, then sat back down, resting the slim computer on her knees.

The photo was out of focus – obviously someone had taken it in a hurry – but still, there he was, hovering in mid-air, wearing a black and white suit with a dark cape fluttering behind him. A bolt of blue-white lightning trailed from his left hand, forming some sort of shimmering force-field which, amazingly, held a full-size tanker up in the air as if it weighed nothing at all. And, even through the blurriness of the photo, it was possible to see a smug smile on the man's face.

"Dan told me that our bad-guy's name is…_was_…'Syndrome'." Mitch told Kate as she stared at the picture with keen interest. The dark-haired man chuckled before continuing, "But what sort of syndrome, that's what I want to know… 'Compulsively-jamming-finger-into-electrical-socket Syndrome'?"

Kate grinned at this, noting the villain's fiery, seemingly gravity-defying hairstyle. But her eyes were thoughtful.

"Syndrome…" she murmured to herself, idly tracing the white 'S' of the man's suit with a finger. He looked like an interesting character, this Syndrome, and Kate felt a strange yet familiar sadness creep over her – if only she'd found out about this sooner, then maybe she could have saved him from his fate…

About ten minutes later, the pair of investigators finally reached the suburbs. Kate was wide awake now, and was trying to direct Mitch through the endless maze of streets with the help of a map. But in the end, they spotted their goal easily – it was the only site with a thick cloud of black smoke rising up from it.

As Mitch brought the car to a halt, parking alongside the curb, Kate stared out through the window at what she assumed had once been a house – now a charred, smoking heap of brick, wood, and metal. A small team of researchers and forensics were already there, clambering around on the unsteady mountain of debris, helping each other to overturn wooden beams or sheets of metal. All of them appeared to be searching for something.

Very intrigued now, Kate hopped out of the car and started wandering towards the chaotic scene, Mitch following behind her. A tall, sandy-haired man with chiselled features – Kate assumed him to be the one called Dan – jogged over to her, greeting her with a nod and a smile. Kate noticed, as Dan approached, that he was carrying some sort of white wristband in his hand, and she eyed it curiously for a moment before looking up and smiling at Dan.

"Hi." He said, shaking Kate's hand in a brief, business-like manner before falling in line beside her. "Glad you could make it. So, how much do you know?"

"Well, I know that the giant robot which attacked the city was being controlled by a man named Syndrome, who later met his end here, apparently. I also know about the Supers, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere after something like fifteen years of being in hiding or something…" Kate responded in her rambling, slightly eccentric tone.

"Ah, well we've learnt a great deal more since then." Dan said with a solemn smile. He stopped walking, and Kate turned to face him.

"This," Dan gestured to the wrecked building, "Used to be a house that belonged to a family of Supers. Five of them in total, and each with their own special super-powers. Collectively, they're known as the 'Incredibles', and it was them that managed to defeat the Omnidroid. Now, obviously the Incredibles had encountered Syndrome and his inventions beforehand, since they knew where to intercept the robot and how to destroy it. But we reckon this goes a little deeper than your conventional super-villain attack on mankind, because when I snapped that photo, Syndrome was _helping_ people – he saved a load of citizens from being crushed by a tanker."

Kate nodded slowly, frowning in confusion. "So, the villain unleashes his giant robot on the city, then starts fighting _against_ it, even though he's the one that's controlling it- Oh…." The realization hit her then, and suddenly she understood. Understood _why_.

"Yeah." Said Dan, nodding. "Our villain fancied playing hero, and so he set up his own enemy to defeat. But, things obviously didn't go as planned. That robot – its intelligence was unlike anything we've ever known from man-made robotics. It had the capability to _learn_, the capability to get _smarter_ as its experience grew. Well, it soon _learned_ that Syndrome was the one controlling it, and so it swatted him away, then just carried on doing whatever it wanted. That's when the Incredibles came in, and 'saved the day', as the phrase goes.

Later on in the evening, the family encountered Syndrome again, this time right here at their house. We don't know the details of what happened, but going by what we've gathered from eye-witnesses and the debris left over from the conflict, it seems that Syndrome got a car thrown at him while he was making a getaway in an aircraft. He got knocked into one of the turbine engines, and was presumably, well, _shredded_."

"Oh, God…" Kate groaned, shutting her eyes for a moment. What a horrible way to die.

When she opened her eyes, there was anger in them. "So, Syndrome was _trying_ to leave, and the _heroes_ threw a _car _at him?"

Dan shrugged. "I guess they were trying to prevent him from escaping. I seriously doubt they intended to kill him."

Kate let out a long, drawn-out sigh, and glanced around at the chaotic site. "Well," she said finally, "Sounds like you've got everything covered. So, why do you need me and Mitch to be here, exactly?"

Dan smiled. "Well, here's the real puzzle to all this – the forensic team have been searching this site over and over, but they can't find any…_remains_."

Kate looked up. "Oh?"

"I mean, it's possible that everything got burnt up in the explosion that followed the accident, but there still should have been _something_ – they can't even find anything around the engine itself. Which suggests…"

A smile slowly crept over Kate's face. "…that he's still alive?"

"It's possible. And if he _is_, then he can't be far from here because no one has seen him since last evening. This is where you come in."

Kate grinned. "I'll take a look around." She said casually, hoisting her scruffy backpack over her left shoulder.

Dan grinned back at her. "Great. Oh, and…" he held up the item he'd be holding loosely in his hand throughout the conversation. "We found this near the house. It's one of the bands Syndrome was wearing round his wrist. It contains some sort of zero-point energy device, but we haven't figured out how to make it work. We thought maybe you could help us with it."

Dan then handed the wrist-band to Kate, and she accepted it eagerly, turning the strange gadget over in her hands as she observed it keenly.

"We also found this amongst the rubble…" Dan continued, as he moved to the right and picked up a metallic object from the remains of a low brick wall.

"A jet-pack of some sort, from Syndrome's rocket-boots, we presume. Here, you can have that too." He grinned at Kate. "Y'know, just in case you find Syndrome and he wants it back."

"Wow, gifts!" Kate commented in her usual odd way, taking the second and equally strange item.

Dan smiled. "Alright then, well, I'll leave you to it." He then looked to Mitch, who'd been hovering by Kate's side since their arrival. "Hey Mitch, we're currently putting together a report on the super-powers of each member of the Incredibles family. You want to take a look at what we've got so far?"

Mitch nodded. "Sure." He replied, before looking at Kate and saying, "I'll see you later, ok?"

"Ok, see ya." Kate responded in a distant tone as the two men wandered off. She was still studying the two artefacts she'd been handed. Both were surprisingly light in weight, yet they also looked very intricate and expensive (especially the wrist-band, with its numerous unmarked buttons), and Kate cradled them delicately in her arms, fearful of accidentally setting something off.

After a while, she began to move away from the site. She stepped out into the road and then stopped, looking around slowly, narrowing her eyes as she took in every detail of her surroundings. As far as she could see, bits of twisted metal from the exploded aircraft littered the streets. No one had begun the laborious process of tidying up yet.

As she stared about, she idly ran a hand over the white wrist-band, as a Psychic might handle a treasured object while trying to contact the owner. Kate was indeed famous amongst her co-workers for her heightened instincts – gifted with a strange sort of sixth sense that allowed her to understand the minds of people and creatures alike in a way that was almost inhuman.

However, Kate had always found humans considerably more predictable than… 'not-humans', and so it didn't take great concentration of thought to come to a conclusion on where to start her search. _If I was a defeated super-villain where would I hide_, was the obvious question she'd asked herself, and after a while her eyes had come to rest on a set of sign-posts at the end of the street, one particular sign-post adorned simply with the word 'park'.

After walking for about ten minutes, Kate had reached her destination. It was quite a large park, made bright by numerous flower-beds, childrens' climbing-frames and swings, and well-kept turf. There was a pleasant, if rather man-made feel about it, except of course for the copse situated at the park's centre – probably the dwindled remains of what had once been a mighty forest. The trees were not particularly tall, and so their branches – bearing thick, dark leaves – hung low to the ground. Kate headed towards the copse almost immediately, mainly because it was the only real source of cover in the park, but also because she could see – amazingly – bits of debris hanging in the trees, glinting in the early morning sunshine.

_Must have been one heck of an explosion... _Kate thought to herself, her heart sinking slightly.

Entering the copse was like stepping into a completely different environment from the rest of the bright, sunny park. The sprawling trees created a shadowy, secluded atmosphere – the thick leaves blocked out most of the sun, keeping the temperature pleasantly cool. Pigeons and other smaller birds clattered noisily through the foliage, causing Kate to glance up and see several chunks of sheet metal wedged in the topmost branches.

On moving towards the centre of the copse, the trees became more widely spaced, and it was here that Kate came across one particularly large sheet of metal lying on the ground – bent down the middle, it had formed a sort of tent shape. Kate could not begin to imagine how such a large object had been flung so far across the suburbs, but then she supposed that it had been part of an airborne craft, after all.

Idle curiosity getting the better of her, Kate stepped up to the sheet of metal and kicked it.

The resulting reverberating clang was to be expected, but the angry shout that radiated from somewhere underneath the metal surprised Kate so much that she almost fell over backwards. "Hey!" the voice had said crossly.

Kate had stumbled back, but she was quick to step forward again, this time crouching down on hands and knees by the opening of the metal 'tent', and staring at the figure who sat huddled within, half concealed by shadow.

"Hey yourself." Kate said with a happy grin, but receiving only an angry glare from a pair of cold blue eyes framed by a black mask.

"I suppose there's really no point in me asking if you're Syndrome, since you obviously _are_ Syndrome…" Kate continued excitedly as she took in the man's odd appearance as best she could in the gloom. Clad in a skin-tight black and white suit. White gloves, white boots. Pronounced chin, intense eyes, topped by that wild hairstyle which stood so tall that it was currently squashed up against the metallic roof of the make-shift shelter. This was Syndrome. She'd _found_ him. _Alive_.

Needless to say, Syndrome was not sharing Kate's enthusiasm. He just seemed to stare at her without actually seeing her.

Calming her initial excitement, Kate shuffled a little further inside the shelter, holding out the wrist-band and jet-pack that she'd been carrying with her. She placed them on the ground, as close to Syndrome as she dared, and he quickly picked them both up, studying them thoughtfully.

It was only as Kate's eyes became more accustomed to the gloom that she realised that Syndrome was in seriously bad shape. He was not simply being anti-social, he was just in a complete daze. His eyes were unfocussed and distant, his movements were sluggish. His cape was in tatters, and his glossy suit was torn in several places, revealing deep cuts. The worst wound was a deep, open slice across his right shoulder. He had obviously lost a considerable amount of blood.

While Kate pondered this with growing concern, Syndrome had clipped the wrist-band back into place, and was now busily reattaching the jet-pack to his boot.

After a while, Kate spoke up. "Look, I've got a first-aid kit in my bag if you -

"I've got to get out of here." Syndrome announced suddenly, cutting Kate off. He then abruptly stood up, the sheet of metal being lifted up with him for a moment before it tumbled back against a tree-trunk with a noisy clunk. Kate stood up too, watching the fiery-haired man wince and briefly clutch at his bleeding shoulder, before strolling off through the trees. Despite everything, there was a confident swagger in his step that Kate would have smiled at, were it not for her worrying about his health.

Kate followed Syndrome out of the copse, stepping out into the open just in time to see him pause and press a series of buttons on one of his wrist-bands. Then, suddenly, his rocket-boots burst into life, and he swiftly rose up from the ground, angling his body in an expert manner that suggested a lot of practise. And then, like some strange, twisted version of Superman, he shot off into the sky, heading off towards the city.

Immediately, Kate began to run, even though she knew she stood no chance of keeping pace with those rocket-boots. But, as she tore across the field, she saw Mitch's car pull up at the edge of the park. Seeing Mitch step out of the car, Kate headed towards him.

"Mitch! Look! Look _up_!" Kate shouted, pointing wildly at the sky as she ran. She saw Mitch look up, saw his jaw drop as he beheld Syndrome flying across the sky.

Kate skidded to an abrupt halt next to Mitch, having to grab his arm to prevent herself from falling over.

"Mitch! It's Syndrome! He's alive!" Kate exclaimed, barely pausing for breath. "I found him! He was in the copse!"

Now she did pause, letting her breathing calm for a moment before continuing in a more level tone, "He's got some nasty wounds, Mitch. He's lost a lot of blood. You know what people can get like in that state – they become numb to the effects of their wounds, and they think they can do things but they can't. Now he's going into the city and I don't know why, and the police or someone will find him and they'll catch him! I have to _help_ him, Mitch."

Mitch nodded. "Ok. Get in the car, then. Let's get moving before we lose sight of him."


	3. Walking Wounded

Needless to say, Kate and Mitch _did_ lose sight of Syndrome soon after entering the city. The high-flying villain became lost from view amongst the towering buildings, and since his rocket-boots left no trail of smoke or vapour, the two investigators were at a loss.

By now, Kate had rolled back the sun-roof, and was hanging out of it in order to better scan the skies, much to the intrigue of many pedestrians who – having already been shaken up by yesterday's arrival of a gigantic robot and a family of Super Heroes – followed Kate's lead and glanced up at the sky as Mitch's car passed, as if expecting to see something interesting.

Just when it was beginning to seem hopeless, Kate caught sight of an already familiar shape sailing overhead, high above the street. She saw Syndrome slow up as he reached the roof of a particularly tall building, before once again disappearing from view.

"Stop the car!" Kate yelled so suddenly that Mitch automatically slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to an abrupt halt, and causing much angry shouting from the driver of the car behind, who had to swerve to avoid them.

"_Jeez_…" Mitch hissed through gritted teeth, hastily pulling the car over to the curb.

"I just saw him land on the roof of that building over there." Kate announced as she ducked back inside the car and grabbed her backpack. "I'm going up there…Sorry for startling you just then…"

"It's alright. But, how are you going to get all the way up there?"

"Well I ain't taking the stairs, _that's_ for sure…" Kate answered dryly as she flung open the door and hopped out of the car. As she started up the steps towards the main entrance of the building – which appeared to be an office of some sort – she turned to look back at Mitch, and grinned mischievously as she shouted,  
"If I end up getting shoved over the roof – catch me, ok?"

Mitch chuckled, and called, "Yeah, right!..."

* * *

As it turned out, Kate and Mitch were not the only ones to witness Syndrome's return to the city that morning.

Not far from where Mitch had parked, an aging man in a smart black suit stood on the street, staring up at the skyscraper with a weary look on his face. A younger man – wearing sunglasses and dressed in a similar suit – stood next to him, and after a while he reached into his jacket pocket and took out a cell phone. This he then handed to the older man, who then proceeded to make several phone calls…

* * *

A few blocks away from where all this was going on stood the hotel in which the Parr family were currently staying.

Exhausted from such an eventful day, the Parrs had all gone to bed immediately after checking in, and had only got up relatively early the next morning because Dash and Violet – their appetites far outweighing their tiredness – had not wanted to miss the breakfast service.

After eating, the family had returned to lazing around in their room – which was in fact a rather luxurious suite, all expenses being paid for by the Super Relocation Program. But the family of Supers found little time to enjoy it, as they were still feeling dazed by all that had happened to them over the last couple of days. All of them, that was, except for Jack-Jack, who in many ways had been through the strangest ordeal of all, yet still seemed as cheerful as ever.  
Of course, all Dash wanted to do was talk non-stop about his adventures on the island, and all the amazing things he had seen during the battle with the Omnidroid, but he was met with little enthusiasm from his parents, who were already beginning to fret about finding a new house.  
Though out of all of them, Violet was the quietist. Ever the deep thinker, she was still pondering on something that had crossed everyone's mind at some point since last evening – the death of Syndrome.

Had the villain really deserved what he'd got? Was it wrong to think of his death as a good thing? Alternatively, was it wrong to think of it as a _bad_ thing? Was it their fault that he had been killed? And such a horrible death, too…

In an attempt to get everyone's minds back on normal things, later that morning Helen had gathered the whole family round to play a board game. But of course, the game had not lasted long before Dash and Violet had started to argue, accusing each other of cheating, and then Jack-Jack had decided to join in by banging his hands on the table and screaming loudly.  
For Bob, it was a relief when the phone suddenly rang.

Bob stood up and wandered over to where the phone sat on a small desk by the window, and picked up the receiver.

"_Hi Bob, it's Rick."_ Announced the curt, gravely voice on the other end of the line.

"Oh hi Rick, how's it going?" Bob responded casually, though wondering why the agent was calling.

"_Not so good, Bob, not so good."_

"Oh." A conserned frown formed on Bob's face, and as he chanced a glance at his family, he saw four inquisitive faces peeking up over the couch at him.

"Well, what's wrong?" he asked.

"_Syndrome's alive, and he's in the city."_ Came the abrupt reply.

At this news, Bob's eyes widened in shock. Speechless for a moment, he placed a hand to his forehead and once again glanced over at his family, which was probably a bad move, as everyone instantly wanted to know what had caused his shocked expression.

"Bob, what's wrong…" Helen asked in a low, anxious voice. She got to her feet and began to walk over, but Bob waved her away.

His voice returning in a noticeably more hushed tone than before, Bob murmured, "But the plane…the explosion…how could he have…"

"_Apparently his zero-point energy inventions can be used to save lives as well as ruin them. Right now he's on the roof of an office building a couple of blocks away from where you're staying, and we don't yet know what he's up to. We've notified the building's security persona of the situation, but from what I know and from what you've told me, they're not going to be much of a match for Syndrome."_

"…So, you want me to come down there now?"

"_Yes. Helen too. We've set up an observation point in the building opposite – at the moment we're just watching and learning, though we're well equipped for if Syndrome decides to make any sudden moves. But, since you've dealt with this wacko before, I think you and Helen should be here, as advisors at least. …Sorry about all this, Bob. I know you're all still recovering from yesterday…"_

"It's hardly your fault, Rick. I've been dealing with 'bad-guys' long enough to know that they have a habit of returning just when you think you've defeated them for good…"

Having been standing close enough to overhear this particular comment, Helen's face swiftly changed to the same shocked expression that Bob had been wearing moments before.

Meanwhile, Bob was scribbling down Rick's instructions on a notepad, of the address of the 'observation building', and which floor Rick and his team were stationed on. Then after a brief good-bye, Bob put the phone down and turned to Helen, who was staring at him anxiously.

"Syndrome." Helen said, speaking the foreboding title with a noticeable amount of contempt. "He's back, isn't he…"

Bob nodded. "Yes. That was Rick on the phone. He saw Syndrome land on the roof of a building not far from here, and he wants us to go 'evaluate the situation'."

Helen sighed wearily, closing her eyes for a moment. "It just never stops, does it…"

Bob smiled sympathetically at his wife. "Nope…"

Then, Violet spoke up hesitantly, "Well…this is a good thing…right? I mean…it's good that's he's still alive…in a way…"

"Are you kidding?" Dash suddenly interrupted. "Where were you during the multiple times he tried to kill all of us? Taking a nap?"

"_Dash_." Helen scolded her son, before sighing again. "While I can't help but think that the world would be better off _without_ Syndrome, Violet is right. Death is not something we would wish on _anybody_. But, now that we know Syndrome's alive, that means he's still got to be brought to justice, so your father and I have to go and see what he's up to. _And_…" She paused as she saw her two children clamber hurriedly to their feet, "You two have got to _stay here_."

She was instantly met with an outburst of complaints from both Dash and Violet, but she raised her hands defiantly and said, "No, I _mean _it this time."

"But _Mu-um_!" Dash whined, clasping his hands together pleadingly. "We're a team! …And I never got a chance to kick Syndrome's butt for trying to kidnap Jack-jack!"

"Jack-jack is _exactly_ the reason why you've got to stay in this hotel." Helen responded firmly. "If there's even the slightest chance that Syndrome is still after Jack-jack, then we can't afford to leave him alone for one moment. I do _not_ want a repeat of what happened the other evening." Helen shook her head, looking suddenly distressed. "That was _way_ too close…"

"Ok, Mum…" Dash muttered, in a relenting yet slightly sulky tone.

* * *

The high winds whistling across the roof fluttered the mangled remains of Syndrome's cape in a conveniently dramatic way, as the weakened villain stood, or rather slouched – both hands clinging to the metal scaffolding of the building's water tower for support.

Syndrome rested his perspiring forehead against the metal railings, breathing heavily as a sudden recurrence of pain and light-headedness threatened to overwhelm him. He wore a look of grim determination on his face – an absolute refusal to let his strength fail him. With all the sudden movement, the terrible wound across his shoulder had started bleeding again, and in his already weakened state, that was not a good thing. He had been clever, though – while in the park, he had used the remote on his recovered wristband to send for an aircraft. It would come all the way from his island base to the exact co-ordinates of where he stood now, and the particular jet he had selected was one of the fastest and most advanced aircrafts in his possession. But even so, it would take a good while to arrive, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could last…

* * *

Bob and Helen both decided to be as subtle as possible on their mission into Metroville. Despite yesterday's events, they still technically were not supposed to be using their powers in public, let alone parading around in showy outfits. But either way, if there _was _need to use their powers, they would need the outfits to keep their identities hidden. So they put their uniforms on under their ordinary clothes, and drove into the city in their regular family car. They parked in a small car-park round the back of the building Rick had directed them to earlier, and after removing their outer layers of clothing and putting on their masks, gloves and boots, they swiftly headed round to the building's entrance. Unfortunately, it was a busy area of town, and so quite a few pedestrians inevitably spotted them. They gaped and pointed fingers, but the two Supers were inside the building and out of sight before the onlookers could attract any more attention to them.

This building, though old and currently not in use, was a good few floors taller than the office building across the street, and this was why Rick and his team had chosen it – the floor on which they had set up base was perfectly level with the roof of the building opposite, giving them a clear view of the goings on.

On entering the darkened room, the scene Bob and Helen beheld was surprising yet somehow familiar. A substantial amount of weaponry and technology lay sprawled over several tables, and all along the opened windows a line of men – who could only be described as snipers – crouched, staring through binoculars or, in a few cases, down the barrels of guns.

Rick stood behind them, staring out through the window, stony-faced as usual, until the two Incredibles arrived, at which point he turned to face them, greeting them with a nod and a grim smile.

"Bob, Helen, thankyou for coming so quickly."

"What's been going on, Rick?" Bob asked as he stepped up to the window. Though the targeted building stood on the other side of a wide road, it was close enough for Bob to clearly make out the unmistakable figure of Syndrome, clad in black and white, topped by that fiery hairstyle.

As Bob watched, he felt a sudden, unexplainable pang of guilt – the villain was not standing proud and arrogant as he'd been expecting, but slouched heavily against the building's water tower, clinging to the railings as if on the verge of collapse.

"He's injured and very weak." Rick announced impassively, answering the question before Bob could ask it.

Helen, who's expression – as she stared out through the window – was definitely not one of sympathy, glanced at Rick and asked, "Any particular reason _why _he's on the roof?"

"Our theory is that he's waiting for transportation of some kind, though we haven't been able to track anything yet. We're ready for when it arrives, though." He replied, gesturing to the snipers.

"You're going to shoot him down?" Bob asked, turning away from the window.

"If we have to, yes. If the security guards don't manage to subdue him."

Helen glanced up at her husband's face, and could instantly tell what he was thinking – he was thinking about going across to the building and capturing Syndrome by himself.

Rick seemed to have read Bob's expression too, for he then said, "You did what you did yesterday because it was an emergency, Bob. And as far as the politicians are concerned, you're still only a last resort. We need you here as advisors, and that's all."

Bob made no reply, but nodded his acknowledgement. He then turned back to the window as he heard Rick say, "Here come the guards…"

* * *

Meanwhile, Kate's quest to reach the roof of the office building was, as was the way with these things, proving somewhat more difficult than it should have been. Things had been going well at first, as she had managed to sneak into the elevator without anyone trying to stop her. But two thirds of the way up the building she'd had to get out, after a group of smartly dressed employees had stepped into the elevator with her, and had started staring at her with a mixture of suspicion and disapproval. All things considered, it was a stroke of luck to have got all that way without any difficulty, but now Kate still had about eight floors to go, and now she would have to use the stairs. Climbing eight flights of stairs wasn't really a problem – from the necessity of such a hazardous profession, she was a strong runner. It was actually _getting_ to the stairs that proved difficult.

"Whoa, hold it right there, missy!" a loud, authoritive voice suddenly called out, causing Kate to skid to a halt, grimacing in frustration at being delayed from her goal. She turned around slowly, to see a security guard strolling towards her, wearing a rather smug, patronizing expression.

"Sorry miss, but there's a dangerous situation taking place on the roof at the moment, so no members of staff are allowed past this point."

Kate shifted her weight restlessly. She didn't have time for this!  
"Yes, I know, but I…" Kate started, before the guard interrupted her.

"Come to think of it, do you even work here?" the guard asked with sudden suspicion, now observing Kate more carefully.

"No, but you see… Damn, where's my ID…" Kate began patting the pockets of her jeans, frantically searching for her 'ID card' - which was actually just a key card for access around the headquarters of one of the many organizations she worked for – but it had her photo on it, and at least it might prove her to be more than just a crazy person who had wandered in off the streets.

"I have ID…" she said again, and took off her backpack in order to rummage through it, but quickly stopped when she saw the guard's hand swiftly move towards the gun on his belt.

"Not so fast, missy…" he said warningly.

Maybe it was the fact that he kept calling her 'missy'. Maybe it was because she was only a few floors away from a supervillain in trouble. Maybe it was just impatience for irritating security guards in general. Whatever the reason, Kate suddenly decided that she'd had enough of being co-operative.

"Oh, _sod off!_" she said crossly, before turning round and making a dash for the double doors that led out to the stairs.

"Hey! _Hey!_ Hold it!" Kate heard being called after her, and as she barged through the doors she instinctively ducked, half expecting to be fired at. But no shot came – when it came down to it, the guard didn't really feel much like shooting someone in the middle of an office, and figured that the girl was bound to run into more guards before she reached the roof…

* * *

Syndrome blinked and jerked his head up as the sound of rapid footsteps reached his ears. He whirled round, and beheld a troop of armed security guards jogging towards him. There were seven of them in total, and while they approached Syndrome confidently at first, they quickly slowed their pace as they came nearer; wary of what weapons or super-powers this odd character might possess.

"Are…Are you a Super?" One of the guards demanded dumbly, holding his gun at the ready, as were the rest of his team.

The question caused Syndrome to chuckle. "I'm _better_ than any 'Super'!" he replied, drawing himself up to full height, his pride fuelling him with new strength.

Another, more confident guard then spoke up, "We've been given orders to place you under arrest for-

The guard never got to finish his sentence. Before the other guards even had time to react, Syndrome had deployed his immobi-ray, caught the guard who had been talking, and swung him out over the edge of the roof. Now Syndrome held the guard there, dangling helplessly over a very, _very_ long drop.

Syndrome glared at the guards, his eyes wild and angry. "If any of you take one step closer to me I will _drop_ him!" And, just to prove he wasn't bluffing, Syndrome momentarily let go of the guard. But the guard barely had time to start screaming before he was quickly caught again, hovering frozen within a field of crackling energy.

The rest of the team were so shocked by what they were witnessing that they obediently stayed where they were. Syndrome grinned smugly at the guards' worried faces. But even as he did so, he felt that same light-headedness taking hold of him once again. His raised arm – the arm keeping his captive guard immobilized – was starting to shudder under the strain, as his strength finally failed him. Syndrome was able to fight off the weakness only for a moment before his legs gave way beneath him, and he crumpled to the floor in a dead faint. Simultaneously, the beam of energy that had been holding the guard aloft abruptly ceased, and the man screamed in unbridled fear as he began to fall…

* * *

Bob and Helen had been watching all this from their lofty hiding place across the street. And when they saw the guard fall, it was Helen who reacted first. She flung open the window nearest to her and stretched her upper body out like a living tight-rope between the two buildings, before snapping out her elasticated arms and wrapping them round the legs of the guard as he plummeted past. Now, with a firm hold on the still petrified guard, Helen curved her elongated body down towards the ground like a bungee-rope, and safely deposited the guard on the pavement.

Once Helen had retracted herself back inside the building, she was surprised to see that Bob was still standing there, now watching the roof through a pair of binoculars.

Helen gave her husband a puzzled look and said, "Bob, Syndrome is throwing people off the roof! We have to stop him before he tries to kill anyone else!"

"No…I don't think he meant to drop the guard…" Bob replied quietly, still watching the roof.

"What?"

"…He's just collapsed."


	4. A Lucky Escape

When Syndrome had lost his strength and dropped the security guard, the six remaining guards – instead of arresting the now unconscious supervillain like they were supposed to be doing – had all dashed to the edge of the roof to watch in utter amazement as an elasticated superwoman stretched out from the building opposite to save their falling comrade. And it was only by sheer luck that the moment the guards turned their attention away from Syndrome was the same moment Kate came charging up the stairwell and out onto the roof, before darting round the water-tower and falling to her knees beside the unconscious form of Syndrome, lying on his back, dead to the world.

Exhausted from her frantic run up eight flights of stairs, for few moments all Kate could do was sit there and gasp for breath while staring at the fallen villain. After a while, she realised she could feel a strange dampness soaking through the knees of her jeans, and as she looked down she grimaced and shuffled back – she'd been kneeling in a growing pool of blood, seeping out from Syndrome's sliced shoulder.

Kate cast a nervous glance toward the group of guards, but thankfully they were still gathered at the roof's edge. Quickly, Kate removed her backpack and started rummaging. When she'd said she had a first-aid kit she really wasn't kidding; she had just about anything a traveller could ever need in that bag of hers – she'd had the Mary Poppins gag thrown at her more than a few times.

She soon found the item she'd been searching for – a small roll of bandage. This she unrolled and tore in half. One half she folded into a pad, the other half she used to tie the makeshift compressor tightly around Syndrome's shoulder.

The sudden pressure against the sensitive wound caused Syndrome to stir and groan in pain – and catch the attention of one of the guards.

"Hey!" the guard shouted, causing the others to turn round…

* * *

Bob, Helen, and the other inhabitants of the room had all been startled by the sudden appearance of the young woman who had rushed to Syndrome's aid. It instantly made things frustratingly difficult for the snipers, who no longer had their clear shot at Syndrome because of the civilian who now shielded him.

"But how do you know she's a civilian?" Helen had argued. "What if it's that blonde woman…what was her name…"

"Mirage? No, it's definitely not her." Bob replied. He was still viewing the events through binoculars, while his wife was having to make do without. "I've never seen this one before…"

* * *

"Oh no…" Kate groaned as she saw the guards start stalking purposefully towards her. She shook Syndrome as roughly as she dared, shouting, "Syndrome! Wake up! _Wake up!_" 

"No I don't want that one, I want the other one…" Syndrome murmured deliriously, flapping his left hand weakly.

"I'll buy you both of them if you just wake up!" Kate responded impatiently, shaking him again.

By now the guards had surrounded Kate and Syndrome, and all of them had their guns pointed at the sorry pair.

"Move away from him. _Now_." One of the guards growled at Kate.

Giving up on trying to wake Syndrome up, Kate grabbed Syndrome's left arm and pointed it at the guards, her finger hovering over one of the buttons on the gauntlet round Syndrome's wrist. She didn't know what the button was for, but hopefully the guards wouldn't either.

"Stay back!" she shouted, brandishing Syndrome's limp arm like a weapon.

And the guards did stay back, wary after having already witnessed the power of those wristbands.

Then, unbeknownst to Kate or even the guards, Syndrome suddenly woke up, his eyes opening wide at the realisation that he had been unconscious. He looked up and saw the girl clutching his arm, looked to the side and saw the line of guards, and reacted immediately – he sat up and shrugged off the girl's hold on his arm, pointed at the guards, and deployed the immobi-ray.

The field of zero-point energy enfolded three of the six guards – Syndrome swung them round viciously and sent them colliding with the remaining guards, knocking them down like bowling pins.

* * *

"Well, _that_ worked perfectly…" Helen commented sarcastically, having watched Syndrome take out all six guards with one well-placed swipe of that dratted immobilizer ray. "Now what?" she asked Rick. 

"Now we wait, and watch what he does next." Rick replied calmly, much to the distress of the two restless Supers.

* * *

Now that all six security guards were lying in an unconscious heap, Syndrome rose shakily to his feet, dusting his hands together in a dismissive manner. Kate stared up at the strange man with some amount of awe – his eyes still held that faraway look, his skin was pale and clammy, he looked exhausted to the point that he shouldn't have been able to stand up, yet still he battled on. 

Syndrome took a few steps away from Kate before stopping and looking up, scanning the skies, as if searching for something. Now Kate slowly got to her feet, and cast a disdainful glance at her blood-soaked jeans before she too looked up at the sky, trying to work out what Syndrome was looking for.

Just then, Kate heard a strange whooshing noise behind her, and whirled round just in time to see the strangest of aircrafts pull up neatly alongside the roof – the side closest to where Syndrome was currently standing.

* * *

"Whoa! Looks like you were right, Rick!" Bob exclaimed, almost dropping his binoculars as he dashed towards the window to get a better look at the aircraft. 

Rick, still grimly calm, instructed the snipers, "Get ready to fire on my command. Syndrome isn't going anywhere…"

* * *

The aircraft was a small, impossibly sleek jet, with space for two passengers at the most, Kate guessed. Its exterior was a glossy black, with a translucent hatch over the cockpit. It hovered perfectly still, making little more than a low humming noise, though it seemed to have no visible turbine engines or propellers. Its wings were short-spanned, wide, and vaguely triangular; rather than jutting out, they blended sleekly with the body of the aircraft. It was almost like some sort of alien spaceship, and had Kate not been in such a hurry to think up a plan of action, she could have spent ages marvelling at it. It didn't take a genius to realise that Syndrome had called for this jet, and was now about to make his getaway in it. And the last thing Kate wanted was to lose Syndrome after having only just found him – somehow, she needed to find out where he was going.  
But Kate was still oblivious to the team of agents lying in wait in the building across the street, ready to blast Syndrome's only means of escape out of the sky… 

A moment after the strange aircraft had become stationary, the glass hatch had slid open, and while Kate had begun to frantically rummage through her bag, Syndrome strolled past her, approaching the edge of the roof, then stepping off it and sliding into the pilot's seat.

For a few moments Syndrome just slumped there – even the mere action of stepping from one platform to another had been exhausting for him. He could not even muster enough strength to take the controls. So instead, he began resetting the auto-pilot co-ordinates to take him back to Nomanisan. As with most of the aircrafts he'd invented, the automated pilot was considerably more advanced than that of standard airplanes – as long as the jet didn't encounter any major obstructions, it would return to its hangar on the island base with no trouble.

Meanwhile, Kate seemed to suddenly find what she'd been searching for. She stood up straight, dropping her backpack and taking a deep breath to gather strength. Then, while Syndrome was still busy pressing buttons, she began to run forward, charging straight towards the hovering jet…

* * *

Now sharing the pair of binoculars, Bob and Helen both let out a gasp of surprise as they saw the girl suddenly charge forward, leap out from the roof, and land on the back of the jet. 

Rick, who had just raised his hand to give the signal for the snipers to open fire on the jet, now bellowed out, "Hold your fire!"

Bob and Helen continued to watch anxiously as the girl immediately lost her footing on the sleek surface of the aircraft, before – to the watching Supers' relief – dropping to a low crouch.

"Is she crazy?" Helen exclaimed, trying to tug the binoculars away from her husband in order to get a better look.

* * *

"Are you crazy?" Syndrome shouted, having turned round in his seat after hearing Kate make her clumsy landing. 

Kate, not daring to move out of her huddled crouch, raised her head and met Syndrome's sharp eyes with her own equally intense gaze.  
"I expect a lot of people could ask _you_ the same question!" she shouted back to him over the jet's continuous hum.

A strange staring contest followed that comment, as the two unusual characters – the bohemian girl and the wild-haired man – glared at each other challengingly. Eventually, though, it was Kate who relented – glancing away from Syndrome as, despite herself, she found herself unable to stare into those cold, wild eyes any longer.

Syndrome smirked at her, then made his intentions clear by slowly, purposefully, reaching out and pressing a button to close the hatch.  
"Get off, or you _fall_ off." He said to Kate fiercely as the clear hatch began to close over his head. However, the threatening moment was then ruined as Syndrome had to hastily duck down to avoid getting his fiery hair caught in the hatch as it slid shut – the sight caused Kate to grin widely. But the amusement soon left her face as she realised it was time to move, _fast_. This man would not think twice about suddenly taking off and letting her fall to her death, Kate knew – she could see it in his eyes.

Kate rose from her crouch as quickly as she dared, and before vertigo could overwhelm her sense of balance, she started forward, skidding down the jet's left wing and jumping the small gap between the jet and the building. She landed, on her feet, on the solid safety of the roof. And not a moment too soon – her feet had barely touched the ground before she heard a sudden loud _whoosh_ as the jet hurtled away from the building at incredible speed. Within a few seconds it was a mere dot in the sky.

* * *

"Oh great, that's just _great_. He got away!" Helen exclaimed crossly, flinging her arms up in frustration and turning away from the window. 

Everyone else in the room was aghast – not only at the uncanny speed of the aircraft, but at their failure to prevent Syndrome's escape due to that girl's inexplicable decision the leap onto the jet at the last moment.

"What did that girl think she was _doing_…" Helen continued to mutter angrily as she stalked straight out of the room, heading to the elevator.

Bob watched Helen exit the room. He started to follow after his wife, before pausing to glance back at Rick, but the weary agent just sighed heavily, looking even more sullen than usual. So Bob turned away, and headed out of the room.

Helen, meanwhile, had already reached the ground floor. Still fuming, she headed straight out of the building, and stalked down the street for a few paces… before suddenly pausing as she saw Kate emerge from the building across the street, jog down the steps, and head over to a parked car.

* * *

"Well, that was interesting…" Kate said to Mitch, who had rolled down his window and stuck his head out as she approached. 

"Yeah, nice stunt you pulled back there. But what were you actually doing? Trying to hitch a lift or something?"

Kate grinned slyly. "Nope."

"Well, unless you fancy explaining everything to the authorities, I think it's time we got out of here."

Kate looked to where Mitch was now pointing, turning round to see one of the Supers standing and watching her from across the road. Though there was a good distance between them, Kate could see the look on the woman's masked face – she seemed to be studying Kate intently, with an expression that was more questioning than angry. But Kate was still wary, and did not take her eyes off the Super as she asked Mitch,  
"Is that 'Elastigirl'?"

Mitch nodded. "Without a doubt. I could see her stretching herself around to save that guard who fell off the roof – it was pretty cool. And that's Mr Incredible just coming out of the building over there..."

Kate nodded slowly. She was interested in the Incredibles, of course, but she was currently much more interested in Syndrome, and Mitch was right – it was time to leave.

For a moment longer, Kate and Helen continued to stare at each other - both seeming wary of what the other might do - until Kate finally got inside the car and shut the door.

As Mitch pulled away from the curb, he asked, "So, what are we going to do now? It's going to be impossible to find out where Syndrome's gone…"

But Kate smiled – a secret, knowing smile – and said, "Remember that tracking device Jeff gave me last week?..."

* * *

"But he has nowhere to go, right?" Bob had asked Rick as the agent emerged from the building to join the two Supers. "The government must have taken control of the island by now…" 

"If the government had taken control of the island, then he wouldn't have been able to call for that aircraft." Rick replied solemnly.

"…Oh. But, that means…"

"The thing is, Bob, turns out that the only military unit around here that would have been powerful enough to take out the island are actually Mr Pine's clients. They're just a few of many clients around the world. This guy makes his money by selling his weapon designs to the highest bidders."

"Oh no…" Bob groaned as the realization hit him. He recalled Syndrome saying how he'd become rich by inventing weapons, but Bob had never given much thought as to _who _he had sold them to…  
"But you said you'd frozen his assets…"

"Well, we _thought_ we had, but that was before we discovered what we know now."

"But…surely…He's _killed_ people, Rick…"

"The world is a corrupt place, Bob. The long and short of it is – if we were to catch Syndrome here, then we would have the authority to arrest him. But for as long as he stays on that island, he claims sanctuary."

Helen, who had been watching as the girl got into a car and drove away, now turned round and called to Bob and Rick,  
"Now the girl's gone too. Should we be doing something about that?"

"It's alright, Mrs Parr." Rick called back. "We can track her down." He then added in a quieter voice, "I've got a feeling I know who she is…"

Bob blinked. "Wait a minute – you _know_ her?"

"I think I know _of_ her. If she is who I think she is, then she's a researcher for some sort of independent paranormal agency…. But anyway, Bob, as I was saying - if you want to bring Syndrome to justice, you're going to have to do it yourself."

Bob fell silent as he thought about this. Again, his feelings were mixed. On one hand, he wanted so much for Syndrome to pay for what he'd done, and knew that the villain's 'defective qualities' were something he couldn't be blamed for. And yet, there was always one nagging thought in the back of his mind – maybe it was his fault that Buddy had become such a tyrant in the first place. And maybe, just maybe, even Syndrome deserved a second chance.

Finally, Bob said quietly, "Let him run. If he knows what's good for him, he'll start a new life for himself, like I had to. But if he ever shows his face in this town again, I'll be waiting for him."


	5. Bugged

Another beautiful evening on Nomanisan, another stunning sunset lining the horizon, enfolding the island and surrounding waters in a rich, fiery glow.

For Syndrome, the novelty of such consistently stunning weather had long since worn off. But even so, as he stared out through the window to see the sprawling island of Nomanisan come into view, appearing so warm and welcoming in the golden light of the evening sun, a strange sleepy calmness drew over him – an unexpected wave of contentment brought on by the secure knowledge that he had returned safely to the one place where he alone had complete control, this wondrous spot of land that was all his, _still_ all his, despite all that had happened over the last couple of days.

As the jet began its steady, circling descent, Syndrome received a transmission from a security guard requesting identification. With a frustrated sigh, Syndrome lazily flicked out a hand and pressed a button to accept the transmission and make his scathing reply,

"It's Syndrome, you idiot. Who else would it be? I guess this means no one noticed one of the flat-jets randomly taking off on auto-pilot…"

"_Yes, sir. I mean no, sir. …It's good to hear from you, sir."_

"Whatever." Syndrome muttered dismissively, leaning back in his seat. But after a few moments thought, he leaned forward again and asked in an oddly reluctant tone,

"…Is Mirage around?"

"_I'm afraid she's gone, sir. She must've sneaked off and taken one of the jets while we were watching a report on the Omnidroid."_

"Great." Syndrome growled through clenched teeth. "And I suppose this was mere moments after the Incredibles got _mysteriously_ set free while you were all busy 'watching a report on the Omnidroid'. _Jeez_, what do I pay you guys for…"

The guard on the other end of the line promptly decided – rather than digging himself into a deeper hole – to change the subject.  
"_What happened to you, sir? After what happened with the robot…"_

"_Don't_ remind me." Syndrome snapped hotly. "Just get the scar-gun heated up. I'm in serious need of medical attention right now…"

"_Right away, sir."_

A few minutes later, the jet had landed neatly in the hangar. Syndrome slowly clambered out and looked around. Currently, no one else was around, though Syndrome expected that a few guards would soon arrive to unnecessarily escort him to the first-aid room…

Syndrome started walking away from the jet, but something suddenly glinted in the corner of his vision and caused him to turn back. It was coming from the jet – something small, silvery, and suspiciously out-of-place…

Frowning, Syndrome walked back to the jet's side, and began running a gloved hand over the back of the aircraft until… _There._ Syndrome raised his hand, and stared at the object in enraged disbelief, recognising its design instantly – a tracking device. Small, circular, and as inconspicuous as a silver coin, the device was stuck securely near the base of the jet's left wing, glinting at Syndrome mockingly.

"Oh man…" Syndrome groaned as the realization hit him. "I don't believe this… She bugged the jet!"

_So _that_ was why she jumped onto the jet_, Syndrome thought. _She_ _must have planted_ _it while…_

While he'd been busy glaring at her. His eyes had been fixed on _her_ eyes – it must have been exactly what she'd wanted him to do.

His temper rising, Syndrome wrenched the tracking device off of the jet and threw it onto the ground. He then swiftly brought his boot down on it, crushing its inner workings. But he was well aware that it was already too late – the girl would know the exact co-ordinates of the island by now…

"Is everything alright, sir?" A security guard had wandered into the hangar, and was now standing and watching Syndrome, most of his expression masked by the tinted visor over his eyes.

"No, everything is _not_ alright!" Syndrome snapped back at the guard. He was regretting losing his temper over the tracking device, and staggered slightly as his vision swam, his body harshly reminding him of its weak state.

After standing still for a few moments, shutting his eyes until the dizziness passed, Syndrome sighed heavily and scooped up the crumpled tracking device. He then casually flipped it – as one would flip a coin – to the guard, who caught it easily and examined it with feigned interest.

"Looks like I've got a stalker." Syndrome said with grim amusement. He then gingerly placed a hand over his bandaged shoulder and added, "And a _helpful_ one at that…"

While stranded in Metroville, Syndrome's thoughts had been a panicked, feverish jumble. But now, his thoughts were becoming clearer – things were starting to fit into place. This girl, who had appeared out of nowhere to bandage his wounds – the girl who'd jumped so boldly onto his jet and planted a tracking device without him even noticing – was the same girl that had found him hiding in the park, and had returned to him his wrist-gauntlet and jet-pack. She was following him, that much was obvious. But _why_…

"It's no problem, sir." The guard said in his gruff, monotone voice. "I'll put the squad on red-alert. If any aircraft tries to approach the island, we'll blast it out of the sky."

Syndrome was silent for a moment. He was staring absently at the floor, lost in his own thoughts. Then he said in a quiet voice, "No…we're not going to do that. In fact, we're not going to do anything at all." Syndrome glanced up at the guard. "If this stalker of mine wants to pay us a visit, then we won't do anything to stop her. But once she's here…" He grinned evilly. "We'll arrange a little welcoming party for her…"

* * *

It had not taken Kate long to arrange for transport to the island. Helicopter was the chosen vehicle – not exactly the most luxurious or speediest mode of air-transport, but it was the only aircraft available that didn't need a runway in order to land, and considering Kate was meant to be _sneaking_ onto the island, it seemed like the obvious choice. So, helicopter it was. 

It was the day after Syndrome's escape from Metroville, and Kate had set out as early in the morning as possible, in order to reach the island before night fell. Mitch had decided to come with her, to keep her company on the long and tedious journey. The pilot of the helicopter was Ben Archer – a gruff but mild-mannered man in his late forties. He, in fact, was already acquainted with Kate and Mitch, being an old associate of the American research centres they worked for. Ben was the sort of man who preferred to just do his job and not ask questions, and so he remained silent for most of the journey, leaving Kate and Mitch to chat idly.

It was now about four in the afternoon, and the two investigators, having both woken up from a nap a little while ago, were now having a late lunch. Kate was kitted out in what she cunningly referred to as a 'hiking in hot weather' outfit. Practical for running and climbing about, but light and airy for trekking in a tropical climate. On her top half she wore an olive-green vest-top, and over that an open shirt of white cheesecloth. The trousers she wore were beige and made of a similar material to the shirt, and on her feet she sported brown suede hiking boots. And, of course, she had her trusty old cord-string bag with her. Mitch, meanwhile, was dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt.

"So, what's going to happen once we get there?" Mitch asked Kate as he chewed pensively on a cheese sandwich. "Got a plan?"

Kate, who had been checking over the contents of her bag for the third time, looked up at Mitch and grinned. "Oh, you know me, I don't make plans." She replied, wafting a hand as if to dismiss the notion. "I'll probably just wander around until I get caught, and then after that we'll just play it by ear..."

Mitch chuckled. "So, everything's well thought out, then."

"Yes indeedy."

The conversation was interrupted as Ben suddenly called out, "We're here!"

As Kate and Mitch twisted round in their seats to stare out of the window, the pilot began to give a casual and rather obvious evaluation of the sprawling island that they were now approaching.

"Looks to be a…volcanic, semi-tropical climate. Dense jungle…_two_ volcanoes. And judging by the bare land towards the West, one of them is active. Can't see any architecture from this altitude – too much vegetation. I'm gonna take us down to that bay on the South-West tip. Should be safe there..."

As the helicopter began its descent, Kate stared out at the view below her with awe and longing, her love for adventure and exploring triggered by the sight of this remote island paradise.  
"It's beautiful…" she said quietly.

"Yeah, and a perfect set-up." Said Mitch, "Crazed genius with a secret base on an uncharted island. I don't get it – does this guy want to be a hero or a villain?"

Kate looked round at Mitch and shrugged. "Maybe a bit of both." She replied with a smile.

After coming in to hover directly over the chosen bay, the helicopter was set into a steady vertical descent. Kate waited impatiently for the rough jolt as the helicopter settled on the ground, then immediately unclipped her seatbelt, grabbed her bag, and unlocked the cabin door. After sliding the door open and leaning out for a brief look around, she turned back to smile and wave at Mitch, then leaned round the pilot seat, extending her hand to Ben and saying gratefully,

"Thanks for the flight, Ben. I really appreciate this."

"No problem." Ben replied gruffly, though he smiled and shook Kate's offered hand. "And good luck with whatever it is you're here to do."

"Thankyou."

Kate then turned and hopped out of the helicopter and onto the beach. Its propellers were still spinning rapidly (having been warned of the danger, Ben wanted to get away from the island as quickly as possible), stirring up the sand and rippling the water, and causing Kate to place her hands over her head for fear of her long hair getting caught in the whirling blades. But even over the helicopter's noise, Kate heard a thump as another pair of feet hit the sand, and she turned to see Mitch standing beside her.

"I'm coming with you." Mitch announced with a determined smile.

Kate smiled back at him, but there was uncertainty in her eyes. A nagging doubt in her mind, making it hard to work out whether Mitch coming with her would help or hinder the mission. But either way, she had no power to stop him. This mission to gather information about Syndrome and his inventions had been assigned to both of them – Mitch was just as much a part of it as she was. So, Kate kept her concerns to herself, and nodded to Mitch before turning to watch as the helicopter lifted away from the beach, ascending swiftly into the cloudless sky.

For a short while the two investigators stood side by side, watching as the helicopter retreated into the distance, both in silent reverence to the grim knowledge that, from this point onwards, they were on their own.

Eventually Kate turned away to stare around thoughtfully at the dense jungle which loomed around them, lining all sides of the small bay. As naturally optimistic as Kate was, even she could not deny that the chance of them finding anything before they themselves were found would be a matter of luck alone. Even the jungle itself looked treacherous and foreboding. And that was just the way she liked it.

"So…" Mitch spoke up. "Into the jungle, or round the beach?"

"Well we're not going to get anywhere by wandering round the edge of the island…" Kate replied, arching a mischievous brow at her companion.

"The jungle it is, then."

Kate grinned and started forward. She didn't need telling twice. The vast jungle beckoned to her, inviting her to discover the secrets it held. And she would heed its call willingly, no matter where it took her.

Together, Kate and Mitch made their way off the beach and into the jungles of Nomanisan Island.

* * *

**Author's Note: Ok, I know some people dislike it when there are huge footnotes at the end of chapters, because it's a bit messy and unprofessional, but I so dearly want to reply to the great reviews people have been posting, and there's nowhere else to do it, so here goes. (_All_ reviews are read and appreciated, but I'm just responding to a selection of them for now.)**

**Bikabyte: **Thankyou for all your kind and encouraging words – your enthusiasm makes me happy. Oh, and thanks for all the cookies. Mmm…virtual cookies…

**Dancer of the Moonlit Lake: **Thankyou – keeping everyone in character is of the utmost importance to me, so I'm glad you approve of things so far.

**Pitbulllday: **PBL! flaps You know me, right? It's Chikkennoodul/QueenMeanie. Thanks for reading the fic, I'm glad you like it.

**WormmonABC: **It's funny that you (and many other reviewers) should mention the thing with the turbine engine, because the idea of Syn using his immobi-ray to escape was actually not my first choice. Originally I was going to base it (and I'm sure Pitbulllady will back me up on this) on the fact that, in real life, turbine engines _don't_ slice people into mincemeat – the propellers spin fast, but they're so brittle and light-weight that, if a human was to hit them, the blades would either shatter or just stop, much like sticking your finger into a household fan. _But_, in the Incredibles film, the engine was clearly portrayed as a source of danger and death, and I didn't want to lose that sense of menace – writing a 'he fell into the engine but didn't die because the blades stopped' scenario could have been somewhat anti-climatic. So I went with the immobi-ray theory, and everyone seems to like it, so that's good.

**WormmonABC (again!): **No, Rick was definitely much more than a lawyer. Going by what I saw in the film as well as 'Jack-jack Attack', he struck me as a 'Men In Black' type, what with all the memory-erasing gadgets. Lawyers don't tend to carry brain-washing devices around with them, as far as I know. ;;

**SecularAnarchy: **But…your views are exactly the same as mine, so I don't really know why you're saying what you're saying to _me_, if that makes any sense. You can't yet judge the story because I have not yet told it – you seem to be accusing my story of being 'fluffy', when all you've seen so far are the opening chapters. Just because one chapter is one way, that doesn't mean all the other chapters will contain more of the same. I'm fully aware of the way the Incredibles universe works –the story I've got mapped out in my head is intended to be an enjoyable and believable concept for a sequel to the film, while also dropping something new (and rather risky) into the mix. I'm not ranting at you, because I understand exactly what you're saying. It's just that you're not telling me anything that I don't already know.

**Kithwynn: **Gosh, that was the longest review I've ever received for a fanfic! But I would reply to you with exactly what I replied to SecularAnarchy – you're not telling me anything I don't already know, and you shouldn't really make those sort of judgements until the story is finished, because you never know what's round the corner. I feel I must point out that I'm not writing this fic because it's some sort of chore. I'm writing it for the same reason that anyone writes a fanfic – because it's fun, and because I can indulge in taking a favourite canon character and placing him in a situation of my own choosing. I have nothing but respect for the Incredibles universe and so decided from day one that if I was going to write this story, I would do it with as much accuracy, understanding and depth as possible. That doesn't mean, however, that I'm going to slave over it so much that it sucks all the fun out of it. I'm sure that no one _really_ wants to see page after page of me going on about the whys and hows behind every action and spoken sentence. Being intentionally set out to read more like a movie than a piece of prose, this story is running rampant with what I like to call 'movie logic' – the boring information is taken out in order to keeps things pacey and interesting. You end up with something that might not make complete logical sense in the real world, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy the story for what it is.  
I think, in answer to most of your comments, I would say- just _wait_ until I've written more of the story, _please._ It is, in some ways, so frustrating to read these comments when I know that – if you had just hung on until a later chapter before posting a review – you would not have written half of those comments, because all of your concerns would have already been put to rest. I'm not just making this thing up as I go along – I've already got, more or less, the entire story mapped out in my head. I already know that the reasons behind Kate's illogical motives are being withheld for a purpose, just as Syndrome's wrongdoings are been currently overlooked for a purpose. It is all, without giving too much away, setting up for shocks and twists in later chapters.  
Despite what you say, my plans to keep on going with this story remain unchanged, as quite a few readers seem to be enjoying it almost as much as I'm enjoying writing it. I appreciate constructive criticism as much as the next writer, but in this case I'm going to carry on regardless.  
(P.S. The thing with "he knew that the villain's defective qualities were something he couldn't be blamed for" is just odd writing on my part. It is meant to refer to the fact that _Bob_ can't be blamed for Syndrome's qualities. The 'he' in the last half of sentence refers to Bob, not Syndrome.)


	6. Caught

On entering the jungle, Kate and Mitch had been preparing themselves for an obstacle course of tricks and traps. From what they'd already judged to be a rather clichéd set-up for a supervillain's secret lair, they had naturally been expecting to have to dodge their way through a forbidding maze of pitfalls, booby-traps, and those hidden trap-doors that plunged you into an inescapable cavern filled with poisonous snakes and scorpions.

But, as it soon turned out, there was nothing like that. Nothing at all. It was simply a beautiful, untamed tropical forest that seemed to go on forever. The two investigators had been wandering aimlessly for about an hour and still had not come across any sort of path or sign of habitation, or even clues to suggest any human had ever been there at all. It all cleverly gave the impression of a place completely untouched by man, and as Mitch commented at one point, it all seemed _too_ perfect. It seemed that the wise thing would be to not let themselves get lured into a false sense of security by their picturesque surroundings, for they were bound to run into something strange sooner or later.

And indeed they did – just after Kate had been commenting on the apparent lack of wildlife.

"Ah look, _there's_ something!" Mitch said triumphantly, pointing up to the lowest bough of a large tree they were passing under. "What sort of bird is that, then…"

Kate, who had been concentrating on the ground beneath her feet as she stomped purposefully along, did not look up at first, instead just saying,  
"We know there are _birds_ here. We've been hearing bird-calls non-stop since we got here. I was talking about…"

She trailed off as she caught up with Mitch, pausing to look up to where he was pointing. It only took her a moment to realise that something was wrong.

"That's not a real bird." She stated casually, reaching an arm behind her back to pluck a bottle of water from her bag.

Mitch looked at Kate, then looked back to the bird, and this time looked more closely. She was right – there was something unnaturally stiff in the way the blue-feathered bird tilted its head and twitched its wings as it sat on its perch, regarding both of them with a lifeless glare.

Then suddenly, Kate and Mitch both jumped, startled, as a sharp robotic voice radiated from the bird.

"_Identification, please."_

For a long, silent moment, Kate and Mitch just stood there and gawped at the robotic bird.

"…..Um?" Kate tried after a while.

"_Voice-key incorrect." _The robot-bird replied flatly.

Kate and Mitch looked at each other. "I think we've been caught." Kate said grimly. Then, as she looked back to the bird, she saw its eyes change from black to a fierce, glowing red, as it opened its beak to its full extent, revealing a speaker. Then came the alarm.

Kate yelped and clamped her hands over her ears as the harsh, blaring alarm rang painfully through her head. "We have _definitely_ been caught!" she yelled over the relentless noise.

"Time to run!" Mitch yelled back at her.

With that, the two of them turned away and bolted, Mitch leading the way, Kate following close behind. They tore through the thick vegetation, running as fast as their legs would carry them, trying to put as much distance between them and the bird-cam as possible. And yet, strangely, the noise of the alarm did not seem to get any quieter. Kate chanced a glance over her shoulder as she ran, and to her distress she saw that the bird-cam had taken off and was now following them from the air, its eyes still blazing, its alarm still blaring.

Kate grimaced and looked away, only to spy something ahead of her that caused her to suddenly slow her pace. The trees seemed to be thinning out and, up ahead, she could see sunlight pouring in through the dwindling foliage, suggesting a patch of bare land. But while Kate had slowed up, Mitch was still going full-tilt, so intent on escaping the terrible alarm that he was no longer paying proper attention to his surroundings.

Now forgetting about the bird-cam bearing down on her, Kate took off running again, only this time she was just trying to catch up with Mitch.

"Mitch! Hold up!" she yelled desperately. "You're heading straight for a clearing! We've got to stay under the trees! _Mitch_!"

But whether it was the noise of the alarm, or simply the beating of his exerted heart pounding in his ears, Mitch did not hear her. Kate saw him bolt straight out past the trees and into the clearing, showing no signs of slowing up.

A second later, the sound of rapid gunfire pierced the still afternoon air. It rang in Kate's ears more clear and terrible than any alarm, and she skidded to an abrupt halt.

A sickening silence followed. The bird-cam had suddenly ceased its noise, and had flown away out of sight.

Kate watched in horror as Mitch's form came back into view. He staggered backwards past the line of trees he had run out from moments before, until finally he fell back into the undergrowth, his body lost from view amongst the leafy ferns.

A choked gasp escaping her throat, Kate immediately started towards the place where Mitch had fallen….then suddenly the world around her turned an electric blue, and she found herself unable to move.

In that instant Kate knew what it felt like to be paralyzed, and it was the most terrible feeling she had ever experienced. She was still breathing, and she could feel her heart beating rapidly, but her body was locked into place, frozen into an awkward mid-run position. The only thing she could move were her eyes, and she took full advantage of this – her gaze roved about frantically as she tried to make sense of what was going on outside her swirling blue cocoon. It had taken her a few moments to realise what had happened to her, but now, as she felt herself being sharply levitated high above the ground, she saw him.

The first thing Kate noticed about Syndrome was that he now looked completely revitalized, all things considered. Gone was the slouching, suffering man that she had chased through Metroville not long ago. Now he stood tall and proud, obviously smug at having captured his prey so easily. His ragged suit had been replaced with a brand new one. That glossy, extravagant outfit – everything from the skin-tight catsuit to the long flowing cape to the steel-capped boots – displaying his outlandish confidence. That outrageous hair swept up like a flame. That impish face grinning triumphantly at her…

Kate's immobilized form was promptly swung round to the centre of the clearing, lowered half way and then dropped, leaving her to fall the last few feet to the dusty ground.

Kate coughed sharply and groaned in pain as she landed heavily in her front, but then quickly scrambled to her feet and glanced around. A small troop of five guards stood in a line behind Syndrome, all wearing bleak grey uniforms, with tinted visors shading their eyes - rendering them emotionless, somehow. All of them had their rifles aimed at Kate….and one of those rifles had unleashed the bullet that-  
_Mitch_. The zero-point energy must have slowed her senses as well as her limbs, for it was only in that moment that the memory of Mitch's execution came flooding back to her…

Syndrome had been muttering something to the guard nearest to him, but as he saw Kate start to turn away – looking back to where her companion had fallen – he called out to her,

"Hey, don't even think about it! You stay right where you are!"

At his command, Kate paused and slowly turned back to face him. Kate could feel tears welling up in her eyes, and she frowned deeply as she tried to force the sadness away – it was not like her to cry so easily. But when she had looked back at that fateful place, all she had seen of Mitch was one foot sticking out from the thick undergrowth he had collapsed into…

"Why did you shoot him and not me…" Kate started to ask in a low voice, before Syndrome suddenly cut her off.

"Oh and she's _British_, too! Oh how _lovely_!" he drawled in an intentionally awful impression of a British accent. But then he frowned at her and said, "He was shot because he was trespassing, simple as that."

"_I _was trespassing!" Kate shouted at him, though her voice quavered with misery.

Syndrome took a few menacing steps towards Kate at that point, but Kate did not back off. So he stopped and said airily, "I gave these guards an order to kill anyone accompanying you. _You_, on the other hand, I've been expecting. _You_ I wanted alive. This island is strictly off-limits and so I have every right to… 'take care' of unwanted visitors. If you had just come alone then no one would have had to die!"

"Oh, god…" Kate covered her face with her hands, seeming to slouch in defeat. Syndrome was right. She'd had a bad feeling about Mitch coming with her from the start, and now she knew why. Kate was used to death – her career was a risky one and it was not unusual to see co-workers die, often unpleasantly. But that never made it any easier to bear.  
A hundred 'if onlys' span through her mind. If only Mitch had not decided to come with her. If only he had just stayed on the helicopter. If only…

Syndrome had now turned to face his guards. "You!" he said, pointing to one of them. "Get her bag!"

"Yes, sir…" the chosen guard strode up to Kate and took hold of her backpack before roughly tugging it from her shoulders. Kate glared at him, but did not resist.

"Take it back to the base and have it searched." Syndrome said to the guard as he rejoined the ranks. Syndrome then glanced at Kate and smiled smugly before adding, "Security protocols and all that…"

Then another guard spoke up. "What about the girl, sir? Should we take her up to the containment unit?"

"Nah, I don't think there's any need for that." Syndrome replied, his consistently smug manner suggesting that he was revelling in his complete control over this young woman's fate. "I'll take her to the base myself – we'll take the monorail. It's about time she and I had a little chat…"

The guard nodded, then motioned to the other guards, and the troop promptly marched out of the clearing and away into the jungle.

"Alrighty then, let's get this show on the road!" Syndrome said cheerily, motioning Kate to follow him as he turned away and – in that swaggering, self-confident gait of his – started walking out of the clearing, heading in a slightly different direction to the guards.

Kate obediently followed him. What choice did she have? And in truth this had been what she'd wanted – to be taken to Syndrome's elusive secret lair. But there had been such a terrible price to pay to get even this far…  
_Oh, what mess have you gotten yourself into now…_ Kate thought to herself grimly, as she followed Syndrome to the monorail station.


	7. Welcome To Nomanisan

Despite everything, Kate could not help but be impressed by the monorail, with its stylish 'monopods' skimming briskly along an extensive singular track built high above the jungle canopy, taking its passengers on a winding tour of the island's luscious scenery. She and Syndrome sat opposite each other in one of these monopods – Syndrome, with his arms folded, legs crossed, and a deep frown on his freckled face, was glaring at Kate expectantly, while Kate was not even looking at him. She was staring out through the window, completely lost in her own thoughts as she gazed wistfully at the view whizzing along below her – a wondrous landscape of trees, lagoons and waterfalls.

Kate shed no tears for Mitch, instead she just mourned him silently, sending wishes of peace to his departed soul. While anyone else might have felt deep hatred for Syndrome, Kate's strange nature was such that she was unable to blame him for Mitch's death – she and Mitch had known the risks from the start, and they had been prepared for the consequences of their trespassing. Kate only felt regret for the twist of fate that had swayed her from trusting in her instincts and refusing to let Mitch come with her…

By this time, Kate had drifted into such a deep daydream that she did not notice that Syndrome was speaking to her. He had started to ask her a question, but had then stopped, outraged to discover that she was not even listening to him.

"Hey!" He shouted at Kate. "I'm _talking_ here. Hello?"

With an angry snarl, Syndrome pressed a button on his armrest, and a pair of metal shutters promptly snapped down over the monopod's windows, plunging everything into darkness for a second before the interior lights switched on.

The action was of course completely successful in jolting Kate from her daydream. With a surprised look on her face, she shifted round in her seat to face Syndrome. She seemed surprised at herself more than anything else – it was bad enough that she had let her instincts fail her, and now she letting herself become completely oblivious to what was going on around her?

_You're losing it, girl... _Kate warned herself grimly. _You've got to stay on your toes in this game!_

"I'm sorry." Kate said eventually, smiling apologetically. "I'm Kate…Kate Goldin. Um…" Hesitantly, she stuck out her hand. "…Pleased to meet you?"

"Yeah, sure you are…" Syndrome sneered at her, though strangely enough he did take her hand and shake it briefly, before sitting back and regarding Kate with that same accusing glare.

"So, _Kate_, are you going to explain yourself, or is this going to be a game of Twenty Questions?"

"Right, ok…" Kate murmured to herself as if preparing for a long speech, as she shifted forward in her seat. "Ok. I work for the Society of Paranormal Research and Defence, and…"

"Wait, hold up." Syndrome said suddenly, holding a hand up, curtly motioning Kate to stop talking. "Paranormal? Wait, let me guess – you're here because you think this place is some new Area 51 and I'm harbouring alien space-crafts. That's what's going on, right?" Syndrome began to laugh. "Oh man, and I thought _I _was a geek…"

Kate frowned angrily at him, irritated by his mocking tone. "The term 'paranormal' extends much further than ghost and aliens, you know." She retorted defensively. "It literally means anything 'not normal'. I specialize in crypto-zoology, but I often get assigned to investigate just about anything that, by today's society, is considered strange or unusual."

Syndrome had stopped laughing now. Now he was watching Kate silently, his brow arched in reluctant curiosity.

"These 'Supers', for example." Kate continued. "Their powers are classified as 'strange and unusual'; 'out of the ordinary' – 'paranormal'. And similarly, you – and all the technology you've got hidden away on this island – are considered to be 'strange and unusual', unfortunately."

Syndrome rubbed his chin thoughtfully, currently unsure of what to make of all this. "Right…So, why _are_ you here, then? Though you could steal a few blueprints or something?"

"No!" Kate no longer looked angry, instead she now looked genuinely hurt by his comment. "Of course not. When I say Paranormal Research and _Defence_, I really do mean _defence_. Our society is not some corporation that seeks to control or destroy anything that they don't understand. We fight for the very liberty of people such as yourself! We conduct our investigations purely so that we can learn and understand, and therefore help others to understand, rather than prosecute."

Kate paused, lifting her gaze to stare sadly at Syndrome. "I'm sorry I bugged your aircraft, and sneaked onto your island. But I had to _know_. We had to at least try to learn something about you, in order for us to help you."

"Yeah? Well I don't need your help!" said Syndrome stubbornly, folding his arms.

"Maybe not in the past, no." Kate replied. "But now that you've been in the city, and people have seen you and have witnessed what you're capable of, you're going to get a lot of unwanted attention. Also…you seem to be in a lot of trouble with the law. I heard about your scuffle with the Incredibles, too." Kate grinned mischievously at Syndrome. "What are you up to, Syndrome? What are _your_ ambitions?"

Syndrome couldn't help but grin back at her. As much as he'd always told himself that he wouldn't be the sort to gloat or 'monologue' about his plans, he had to admit that he _did_ enjoy explaining his schemes to people, whether they were interested or not. And this girl did indeed appear to be genuinely interested – she had actually _asked_ as well. So he told her. Not the whole story, of course, but hopefully enough to satisfy her curiosity.

"Well, let's put it this way – I want to be the greatest super-hero of all time!" He blurted the words out excitedly, his eyes shining with glee. "It's been my only dream my whole life. I was set on being the best – better than all the other Supers put together. But of course, there was just one problem…" Syndrome paused, half expecting Kate to answer for him. But she didn't, so he continued, "I don't have any powers!"

Syndrome slumped back in his seat, frowning, staring off into space as if seeing some haunting memory being played out in his mind's eye. "Of course, I personally never actually saw this as a problem. The Supers, on the other hand, _did_ – they reckoned hero-work was too dangerous for 'normal' people. I _hated_ how they thought they were better than everyone else just because of their stupid powers. _I_ had something better, though – I could _invent_. I am the master of technology!" Syndrome chuckled softly to himself and pointed to his rocket-boots. "I invented _these_ when I was ten years old!"

Kate, who had been watching Syndrome attentively, nodded slowly. "An achievement not to be sniffed at…"

"Yeah…Well you'd think so, wouldn't you…" Syndrome grumbled, his eyes still holding that faraway look. "So anyway, I sold my inventions, and I got rich. I bought this island, and I set up this base. And now…well…I suppose you could say that now I'm seeking to bring the Supers down a notch by proving to the world that you don't need super-powers to be Super. And the only way I can prove that is by becoming the best. And, believe me, I'll do whatever it takes."

"I don't doubt it." Said Kate solemnly, studying Syndrome's face. What he had told her explained a lot, but it didn't explain everything, not by a long shot. Kate could tell, just by the look in the man's eyes when he spoke, that the situation went far deeper than what he was saying.

It seemed to Kate that Syndrome had purposefully left out the darker side of his story. The reasons why he had been listed as a crazed criminal genius – not a super-hero at all, but a super-_villain_ – had been left unexplained. But she didn't dare pry any further. Something told her that she'd find out the whole story soon enough.

The two of them fell into silence after that, but barely a minute had passed before the monopod suddenly came to a sharp halt.

"Well, Kate, this is your stop." Syndrome announced casually as the monopod's hatch slid open, revealing that they were no longer outside, but in a sort of monopod station – the pod that Syndrome and Kate had been travelling in now sat as part of a whole circle of identical carriages, spaced neatly around a huge, metallic room.

A little disorientated, Kate stepped out of the monopod and glanced around. Again she regretted causing Syndrome to close the shutters over the monopod's windows during their journey, for now she still had no idea of where this base was located.

Hearing footsteps, Kate turned to see a single guard marching into the station. Syndrome, meanwhile, stayed sitting in the monopod as he continued,

"This guard will take you to your room. And don't bother trying anything funny – you won't get very far."

And with that, Syndrome sat back in his seat, looking away from Kate and the guard in a dismissive manner as the monopod's hatch snapped shut. Automatically, the circle of metal flooring beneath the pod slid back, and the pod was lowered slowly back into the tunnel, before shooting off out of sight.

"Alright miss, let's go." The guard ordered gruffly, needlessly prodding Kate's back with the rifle he was carrying.

Kate frowned as she was roughly jolted by the impatient guard, but she held her temper and started to walk, with the guard following closely behind her.

The captive and her escort headed out of the station and down to the end of a long corridor, where an elevator was situated. Like everything else Kate had seen so far, it was metallic in texture and lit with a cold blue light, and moved with the fluid efficiency of vastly superior technology.

As the elevator began its swift ascent, Kate kept her head low but her eyes trained slyly on the guard standing next to her. The guard was not looking at her – just staring blankly at the elevator doors, standing as still as a statue. Mischievous against all odds, Kate lightly pondered the possibility that this guard was in fact a robot of some sort, and was sorely tempted to do something to try and make him laugh. She never got the chance, however, as the elevator came to a sudden halt. The doors slid back, revealing…

Kate gawped at the sight that met her eyes, and practically fell out of the elevator. This was to be her prison cell? It was nicer than most hotels she'd stayed in! The spacey room she had just stepped into did indeed resemble a hotel suite, except that it was far more sleek and stylish, with distinctly modernist furnishings and a light, airy atmosphere. To the left stood a comfortable-looking bed, and at the far end a wide balcony overlooked a spectacular view of the ocean. The balcony, Kate noticed, had been closed off with a thick pane of glass.

"To prevent escape, you are barred from the balcony until further notice." The guard said flatly, answering Kate's thoughts. "You will remain confined to this room until Syndrome sends for you."

Kate turned to face the guard as he stepped back into the elevator.

"Welcome to Nomanisan." The guard uttered with a smirk, before the doors closed and he was gone from sight.

Kate listened as the sound of the descending elevator faded away, then stepped up to the door and started fiddling with the control-panel on the wall, pressing the various buttons. Nothing responded. Locked, of course. Just checking.

With a heavy sigh, Kate turned away from the door to observe her new living quarters.

_If this is prison, I should get captured more often…_Kate thought to herself with a smile as she wondered over to sit down on the bed. It was only then that she realised now exhausted she was, and suddenly all she wanted to do was lie down on the comfy bed and rest.  
Surely a short nap couldn't hurt – it would probably be ages before Syndrome even remembered she was here, anyway.

With that possibility of a long wait in mind, Kate gladly flopped down onto the bed, and was asleep within moments.


End file.
